Crash Love
by EnigmaAngel337
Summary: In an opera house filled with longing, obsession, fashion, passion, and madness, anything can happen.   Vignettes based on the album Crash Love by: AFI
1. Torch Song

**Unrequited love leads to obsession, obsession to desperation, and desperation to madness…**

"From the moment that I first heard you sing, I always knew that you were an angel," Erik spoke lightly, caressing Christine's trembling cheek. She responded with a fearful gaze.

He had brought her to his underground lair…his haven of darkness and obsession. As she first stepped out of the boat onto dry land, her eyes widened at the sights before her. "Welcome to my sanctuary," Erik said, spreading his arms before him. He extended his hand to Christine, and she took it lightly, entranced by this new, mysterious world. "I have much to show you, angel," he said, a faint smile resting on his lips. Christine's eyes could not believe what they were seeing. The walls were covered with her face: paintings, charcoal portraits, collages…anything the mind could imagine, and they were all of her. He led her along the wall, allowing her to take it all in. "Look here, my love," he said, averting her attention to a life-sized mannequin of her wearing a custom-fit wedding dress and veil. Everything was exact…every detail, every single hair placed perfectly to match hers. Erik turned to face his love…his obsession. "So what do you think, angel?" She was stunned into silence.

Erik reached out and lightly touched either side of her face with his fingertips. "When I first saw you, angels came to light your path." He spoke softly, passionately.

"Angels," Christine repeated softly. She turned her gaze away from him. "I heard you keep their wings pressed under glass."

He gave her a knowing smile. "I like to preserve all that's beautiful," he spoke matter-of-factly. "They serve me better under my longing gaze than running free out in the world." She gave him a shocked look, laced with what could only be described as disgust. "I must say, I am truly ecstatic to have you here, my beauty. These two-dimensional _things_ do you no justice."

"Am I now to be enthralled by your lust and longing for beauty? So enthralled that I might die?"

"No, no, my dear. You are no good to me dead. If I wanted to see death, I would simply buy a mirror." He laughed madly at his own self-mockery. His speech became hurried and frantic, his madness clearly taking over. "You see, my dear, I cannot ever possess beauty of my own, so I must surround myself with beautiful things. I must. Do you see, Christine? Do you see why I need you?" He spoke wildly, borderline madness showing in his eyes. Without warning, his eyes grew somber. "I always longed for beauty, but this wretched face could never be beautiful. Erik could never be beautiful…Never…" He turned back to her jubilantly. "But now I have you! You can be my beauty! Do you see? Please tell me you understand, Christine."

Her eyes raised to meet his. "So you intend to keep me here," she asked sternly, "pinned down like the rest of your angels?"

"Not pinned down, per se, but you shall be kept here. Erik must have your beauty…he must. Do you see Christine? He must have you…"

Christine gave him a mockingly sweet smile. "Do try," she said, her words laced with venom.

Erik smiled wildly, now completely devoid of all sanity and inhibition. "You need me too, Christine. Don't pretend that you don't need Erik. When I came to you, I saw you so bereft, so pale, and so weak. You were so weak…" Erik's affect changed completely, and he looked down with a broken-hearted look in his eyes, and his speech slowed down significantly. "You were so broken, Christine. Beautiful things should never be broken. You were crying, Christine," he said, his voice breaking. He kneeled down and took one of her hands between his. "You were crying, and it shattered my already broken heart. I couldn't bear it." He lowered his gaze to the floor, unable to look at her without remembering her as he had seen her that night. "But," he looked up more hopefully, "when I looked through my side of the mirror and made my presence known to you, you took my hand and came with me. Broken-hearted, you and I declined to speak. But still, you continued to follow me into the darkness."

Christine pulled her hand away and slowly distanced herself from him. "I…I can't stay here," she stuttered. "I must leave." She slowly inched to the door.

"No, Christine, you must stay!" Erik said, his voice filled with utter desperation. "You are Erik's life! You cannot leave him!" He reached out his hand longingly to her, open-palm, as far as he could. "I love you Christine," he nearly yelled. "Erik loves you," he said in a whisper this time. Her eyes, still filled with fear, gazed at this pathetic man, this creature of obsession still kneeling on the floor. "Can't you see, Christine? I need you with me. I need you in my life. I need your beauty, your passion, your pain, your love…Oh, Christine…I need all of you." He reached his hand out further, causing him to lose his balance and crash face first onto the floor. "Please tell that you can see…please."

She shook her head somberly. "Erik…I can't…I can't see through your darkness."

"Then let _me_ see through your light," he said desperately. One arm still outreached towards her, he used the other to drag his body across the floor. "I'd do anything! I'd tear out my eyes for you, my dear, to see everything that you do. I want to see through your eyes…I want to know you…" He managed to get up on his knees to crawl toward her. She slowly backed further away from him until she felt the wall behind her. Her eyes filled with disgust at his apparent obsession. Again, he reached out his hand to her, losing his balance and crashing to the floor beneath him once more. In his lying position, he lifted his head to look at her, trying to show her his soul through his eyes. "Can you see my soul, Christine? Can you feel it? Can you see my pain? It's like yours!" The madness was returning to his voice again. "I've seen your pain, Christine. I've seen it, you know I have. I've seen it, and I want to feel it. Did you hear me? I want to know your pain, Christine. I'd tear out my soul for you, my dear. Oh, my dear…" A violent sob escaped from his lips, and his frail body shuddered against the floor. "I'd tear out my soul to feel everything as you do."

Any trace of compassion that may have once been in Christine's eyes had left. "Get up you sick, perverse beast! Get up and act like a man, not this pathetic monster." Her voice was scathing.

All traces of humanity drained from Erik's eyes, and he rose to his feet. "Leave me!" he growled, throwing his arm for emphasis. He stormed over to her, and aggressively punched the wall inches from her head. "Leave me!" he snarled venomously at her, inches from her terrified face. He stormed away from her, knocking over candle holders in his way. He stopped for a second, and turned wildly back toward her, his animalistic tendencies completely taking over. "You need me, Christine!" he clamored as he walked gracefully back over to her. She was frozen in place by fear. "You know you need me," he said, reaching out and grabbing her by the shoulders. "Admit it," he commanded almost tenderly. "Admit it, damn you!" He shook her roughly, trying to get through to her. She gently reached up and removed his hands from her. Completely shocked by her touch, Erik complied.

She walked a few steps away, and Erik dropped to his knees. He lowered his head, knowing that he had lost his angel. "Leave me," he commanded again, his voice breaking. "Leave me to grieve."

"Leave _me _to grieve," she repeated in a biting tone. "Leave me to grieve that nothing's lost." The mockery in her voice cut Erik to the core. "Know that nothing is lost…you are nothing to me, monster. Nothing!"

Christine walked away, leaving Erik a sobbing mess on the floor, each tear holding a piece of his broken heart. His one obsession retreated back to the light above, leaving this angel of hell to wallow alone in his hatred and repulsion once again.

**Coming next: "Beautiful Thieves" - This one will be dramatically different from "Torch Song," so I hope you're ready. Also, as a teaser, it will be a R/C, so be prepared! **


	2. Beautiful Thieves

**We can burn it and leave, for we are the beautiful thieves…**

"To beauty, wealth, and prosperity," Raoul spoke, raising his champagne glass and smiling widely. Everyone in attendance raised their glasses in response and drank to his toast.

All of Paris's finest were in attendance…celebrating the engagement of the Vicomte and his bride-to-be, Christine. Her face glowed, and she brought her lips softly to his. Raising her glass to him, she spoke softly: "to us."

"To us, and to our wonderful future together," he responded, touching their glasses together and kissing her lightly again.

He turned back to the crowd of people whose eyes were placed expectantly on him. "This night belongs to us," he said, extending his arms outward in a giving gesture. "Take it and enjoy it, my friends…be without inhibition. For tonight, let Paris turn a blind eye to we swift and spolit strangers" he spoke grandly, his smile lighting up the room.

Beautiful music played softly in the background, and all their surroundings were adorned in gold. Everyone danced merrily, dressed in their finest garments and jewels, everyone showing off their wealth and their status. This group was certainly the crème de la crème, all here to celebrate a life of affluence and beauty with Christine and Raoul.

Raoul pulled Christine close into his arms, wanting to feel his fiancé as close to him as possible. He nuzzled his head lovingly in her hair, inhaling her scent. "Tonight is ours, my love, and it has only just begun." They smiled widely at each other, knowing that tonight reflected what the rest of their lives together would look like: parties and gatherings with Paris's finest, champagne with royalty, and an abundance of nothing less than beauty and light.

As the night wore on and the alcohol continued flowing, the guests celebrated as only aristocrats could. It became apparent that men were getting more lustful, and women more willing. Many couples would sneak off giggling, only to return a half an hour later flushed and almost disoriented. Husbands went off with women who were not their wives, and wives were whisked away by silver-tongued suitors. Also sneaking off were those few who were fortunate enough to get their hands on an opium supply and willing to share.

Despite the various blatant sexual and drug transactions, nobody batted an eyelash, and everyone continued dancing, enraptured by the party and their own minds. Nobody bothered to bat an eyelash, for they all knew there was no danger here. Everyone knew that the elite were all exempt from the mundane laws and fate that governed the rest of the population. Everyone knew that they were immortal and untouchable.

In the middle of the festivities, a woman began to feel faint and collapses on the floor among the other dancers. They continued dancing absentmindedly around her form, laughing merrily. "Oh, she's such a card," one lady laughed, "feigning ill like that." She continued turning round and round, laughing along with everyone else staring at the collapsed body on the floor, whose eyes had turned vacant and whose breathing had ceased.

In the background of the party, a masked shadow moved deftly, casually and disdainfully observing the scene being played out in front of him. The mortality of one of their own is handed to them on a silver platter, yet no one cares to notice. They are all too blinded by their own egos.

"You are all running towards death," the shadow spoke silently to himself. "I have met him times before, and he adores you just as he adores the rest of the population." A wicked smile came to his lips. "It shall only be a matter of time before your own humanity catches up with you."

"Isn't this party wonderful, my love?" Raoul asked Christine, too absorbed in her to notice how his celebration was silently turning sour and strangely mortal. Christine glanced around nervously, unable to see the wonder which her fiancé was referring to. "Why so troubled, my love?" He planted a chaste kiss on her soft lips. She smiled up at him, ignoring her instinct and saying nothing. Clearly people were having a good time, and she didn't want to ruin her own engagement party, so she chose to remain silent.

In a sudden moment, the music was stopped in mid-verse, and the phantom removed himself from the shadows. He grabbed a glass of champagne from a nearby tray, and he made his presence known to the party's attendants. "Good evening, my fine people," he spoke eloquently, raising his glass. Everyone started in bewilderment, waiting for his next move. "What a splendid party this is, I must say, Monsieur Vicomte," he said, tipping his glass towards Raoul. Raoul stood dumbfounded, unable to contemplate the fact that his sworn enemy stood before him. "And your bride," he motioned to Christine, "is as exquisitely beautiful as ever." With his free hand, he brought her hand to his lips, lightly grazing them across her delicate fingers. Broken from his trance, Raoul's hand shot out to take his fiancé's back in his own.

"To what do we owe this delightful pleasure, Monsieur?" Raoul spoke, trying to be cordial, yet unable to keep the venom out of his voice.

"I simply wished to congratulate you two on this marvelous occasion." He spread his arms nonthreateningly, smiling widely. "Tis certainly an occasion to be celebrated."

"Yes, it certainly is. We appreciate your thanks, Monsieur. Now if you don't mind…" Raoul's voice matched his scathing, ice cold eyes.

"I am certain you will take great care of my Christine," Erik interrupted, and Raoul stepped up to him threateningly, closing the distance between the two of them.

"It would be wise of you to leave," he warned venomously. Christine stood behind him, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes.

Erik's face broke into a mirthless smile. "You are one to speak of wisdom, good sir, when it is you who stands there with my supposed-to-be wife, knowing that I am a very jealous man…"

In one swift move, Raoul's possessiveness took over, and he drew the dagger from his waist, plunging it deep into Erik's stomach. "You stay away from my wife," he growled, extracting the knife and letting Erik's body hit the floor. Christine gasped and covered her mouth, shocked at her lover's actions. He moved back toward her, taking her into his arms and lightly stroking her hair. "We shan't need to worry about him any longer."

"What have you done, Raoul?" Christine pulled back from him, looking shocked and disapprovingly into his eyes. She dropped to her knees in front of Erik's body and lightly held his wrist between her fingers before looking up at her lover. "He's dead," she spoke, tears forming in her eyes. Raoul squatted beside her, lightly gripping her shoulders and brining her body to his own.

"Sh…it's okay, Christine. It's okay…it's over." She silently wept into her lover's chest, still unable to believe what just happened. "Come, let's get you home," he said, rising up and pulling her upright with him. He put a comforting arm around her as he led her out the front doors of the opera house. The rest of the crowd dispersed, leaving the two bodies lying silently and untouched on the floor. They all stumbled their separate ways, never to speak of this night or its events ever again.

**Next up is "End Transmission." It's kind of darkly romantic, in a sense. Well, I think it is. You'll have to see for yourselves…**


	3. End Transmission

**In death is the only place where true absolution can be found. In death is the only place where beauty and perfection can thrive. In death's embrace is where we shall soon be…**

*****Warning: This contains suicide*****

_The broken radio was playing suicide…_

Our radio had been stuck on the same channel for months, or so it seemed. Maybe not. Maybe it was just my mind telling me what I wanted to hear for the sake of reason.

I can't remember when I first felt myself beginning to fall. I know it didn't happen all at once, but was there ever a first time? Fortunately, I will only know what it's like to fall once more…

What brought me here no longer matters. My past does not matter. All hate has left me. Memories are no longer there. All that matters now is the cold wind embracing my body, and the dark street beckoning twenty-six stories below.

You lightly touch my non-deformed cheek, and I lean into it, remembering the one pleasant sensation that never failed me. Bringing my face closer, you press your lips to mine, trying to rekindle the fire in my heart. That fire burned out long ago. There's no hope of resurrection. I can see you searching my eyes for any sign of life. Unable to find anything, you turn away, realizing that there is no longer anything to find.

I stare out into the five a.m. darkness. "This night has only just begun," I say, a habitual half-grin resting on my lips. I hold my arms out and feel the wind whipping around me, wanting it to lift me up and carry me away. How cinematic would that be? I can picture myself being lifted by the wind's gentle, yet forceful arms, being carried away into the abyss of what I can only imagine would be pure bliss.

I look to you to see if you are prepared. There is apprehension in your eyes. I speak softly, my eyes still fixed on a faraway place. "If there's discretion that you've not abandoned, now's the time." Nothing can hold me back now…not even you.

I nod at you; it's time. I step lightly onto the raised ledge, turn, and hold my hand out to help you up. With a little hesitation, you take it and join me. We both stare over the edge, not really knowing the reason. Perhaps it is to see where our last place on earth will be. Our minds are far too preoccupied to be looking for petty reasoning.

You ask me out of nowhere: "Remember when you said that we all want to die like movie stars?"

I nod, unsure of why you are choosing to bring this up now.

"Well, I believe they'd call us stars." You motion with your head down to the street below us. A crowd of people has gathered twenty-six stories below, obviously aware of our plan. I scowled at them, turning my face away. It's funny that for years, people have longed for my death, and even attempted to take it into their own hands. Now that I'm the one in control of it, they suddenly cannot bear to see it. Ironic…

The sun has just began to rise above the line of the horizon, giving off a burning glow onto everything in our line of sight. Everything is burning bright…burning for us.

The people below gaze at us with frightened looks, contemplating our next move. I have to bury my head into your chest…I can't look at their pain. I have already caused great amounts of pain to people in my life, so I can't bear to see more pain. You caress my head gently. "Stay strong," you whisper. "Remember why we're here."

I nod. "Are you ready for the end?" Without waiting for an answer, I pull your body closer to mine, preparing for our final descent. You lift your head, bringing our lips together one last time.

"I want to know what it's like to fly," you spoke romantically, gripping my body tighter to yours.

I turn towards you and take both your hands. I lace our fingers together and place a kiss on the back of each of your hands. "I love you, Christine."

"Erik…" you whisper lightly. I see a tear run down your cheek.

Without a second's hesitation and in perfect time, we both began our descent. I am suspended in air and time. For the first time, I am eternal and immaculate, just as I have always longed to be.

I can feel it as I leave my body. In a split instant, I am back on the rooftop, looking down at our bodies we left on the ground below. I can still feel both of your hands in mine. We release one of our hands, and turn to admire the spectacle below.

The horrified people surround our lifeless bodies, some sobbing, others shocked beyond comprehension or movement. They begin the premature stages of mourning…for what? Our bodies? Our lives bathed in artificiality? There is nothing to mourn. We are right where we are supposed to be; we are with each other away from the confines of time and judgment. For the first time in my life, my face no longer matters. I am free from all of the hateful gazes and snide remarks. I'm here where I am beautiful...we are beautiful.

We look down once more at our bodies. Seeing the true power of love and the forces that it can withstand brought a smile to both of our faces. Even in the twisted and mangled positions that our bodies were in, one of our hands still held onto the other's, fingers intertwined, never to let go again. She turned to me and, with a smile, removed my mask to reveal a perfectly sculpted face to match the other side. Finally, my horrible face reflected the beauty that she had somehow seen all along.

Once back on the street, we brush through the scene. We hear the faint sounds of sirens moaning, and the cries of the people surrounding our bodies. The volume has been turned down on everything but us. Christine and I are the only ones who exist in our now perfect world.

We step over our bodies, unknown and unseen by the people around us. Everything but us seems so far away now. We turn our backs on the scene leaving it behind us, just as we left our lives behind us, never to return again.

End Transmission…

**Next is "Too Shy To Scream" It should certainly be less dark than this was, but I'm just going with the music, seeing where it leads. Let me know what you think so far! **


End file.
